Of Myself and of Thee

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I know so little of myself.
I perceive myself to be
Only because
You think of me.

I spin about like elemental sprites,
Really nothing without You,
Yet dancing as the orbs
Upon the stage
Of Time and Space.

I know so little of my heart,
How it can beat and bow,
And even break.
That I am free to move,
In opposition to Your dreams for me.

You are the spirit and stuff
Of my many moments,
The thought I hold dear,
And the music I hear.

I know so little of myself,
But You speak me and here I be,
Living and dreaming,
Praying and waiting,
To see all You have thought of me.

Copyright 2016 Joann Nelander

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Prayers Honoring the 7 Times Jesus Spilled His Precious Blood

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The 12 Year Prayers Given by Our Lord to St. Bridget of Sweden

O Jesus, now I wish to pray the Lord’s Prayer seven times in unity with the love with which You sanctified this prayer in Your Heart. Take it from my lips into Your Divine Heart. Improve and complete it so much that it brings as much honor and joy to the Trinity as You granted it on earth with this prayer. May these pour upon Your Holy Humanity in Glorification to Your Painful Wounds and the Precious Blood that You spilled from them.

First Prayer: The Circumcision

Pray 1 Our Father, 1 Hail Mary, then:

Eternal Father, through Mary’s unblemished hands and the Divine Heart of Jesus, I offer You the first wounds, the first pains, and the first Bloodshed as atonement for my and all of humanity’s sins of youth, as protection against the first mortal…

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Jesus, Haven of My Heart

Jesus, I place myself
In the holy confines20110914-035209.jpg
Of Your Sacred Heart.
Heart of my heart,
Draw heaven to me.

Surround me with friends
Of Your choosing,

That my mind might be full
Of the conversation of saints.

The world is so much with me.
It is temptress and shallow.
I long for the deep
Of Your thoughts,
To speak peace and refuge
In my wilderness.

You are the haven of my soul,
The Paradise once lost,
But now given
With my Daily Bread

Exile holds no fear
For You surround me.
You are my consolation
And marrow of my bones,
Strength of my strength.

Your Holy Spirit comes to me
And turns my tears to laughter.
In a valley of vanity and pride,
Your Humanity and Humility
Take me by the hand and heart
To lead me home.

©2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

Remembering the Seasons of My Soul

Old year passes,
Becoming yet another ghost,
Withered as leaves,
Crumbled, and carried aloft
By winter winds,
Too soon scattered
By the breezes of Time.

Is it truly spent,
Dead and long forgotten,
Living but in memory?
May not reflection
Call it from the grave,
Uncover the gain
Hold it fast
To live again?

How has its many waters
Blessed thee and me,
As sacred signs?
Will it, as muse, retain a power
For its having been,
And then no more?

What saints and angels
Sent my way,
Colored its day?
In sorrow,
Who came to hold my hand?
In joy,
Who shared my hearth?

Were there hugs, and smiles,
And laughter to tilt the scale of grief?
Can kisses and embraces be resurrected,
That fires of love be stoked
To warm and blaze anew?

Have my thanksgivings
Been recorded in the pyre,
Written in the embers now glowing
As tiger eyes flashing from the ash.

Years come, doomed , too soon to go,
But let them not hurry
To a crypt without a wake.
Drink the happy wine of memory,
Sip, as the seasons turn.
Contemplate and savor
The seasons of your soul.

©2011  Joann Nelander